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Dust to Dust
category:Classic OtherSpace Logs Crew Facilities The bunks stacked in two rows, two-high, can sleep as many as 50 crew members. They appear to be designed primarily with humanoids in mind, but several appear to be reinforced and extended for larger, bulkier races. The crew bunk area also includes four unisex comfort cubicles, four showers, an exercise square featuring an oval running track, training gear and weightlifting equipment, and a holovid pit with a viewer and a few couches and chairs. The ship's commander and executive officer have their own cubicles that contain beds, computer terminals, and dressers for the display of personal effects. Porter steps out of his cubicle and walks toward the storage lockers, tapping in the combination for his own to withdraw an atmosphere suit and helmet. Xavin nods slightly, "Speaking of the suits, I had thought we might want to continue our planetary exploration. We're not going to find an environment harsher than Centauri, and extremes form the best in training. Balthazar taught me as much." He grins. The Timonae is standing with the two women in the holovid pit, the holoviewer broadcasting a muted INN briefing on Concordance. Marlan nods, taking a drink from her glass, "Sounds like a good idea to me. I don't have duty 'till tonight so I'm free all afternoon." Genive shrugs, "I'm up for more. Anything good instead of peeling potatoes." Porter starts climbing into his atmosphere suit. "Xavin, you and Marlan can handle the container with the Solon's remains." Xavin quirks an eyebrow, "Looks like you're on duty now, Marlan." He laughs nonchallantly, heading up the steps toward the storage lockers, coffee steaming in hand. Marlan smirks, "Ain't that always the case." she says, turning to head for the storage lockers, "Could be worse though...could be cleaning up the galley." she says with a grin and a knowing look to Xavin. Porter activates the thermal regulators and gets a cheery: "Thank you for purchasing this thermal regulation unit from Fermi's Electronics. We hope it suits your needs! Fermi's Electronics, Concordance Station. Accept no substitute." He glances over at Xavin. "These things were your idea, yes?" Genive giggles and pushes the buttons on her wrist. " Hmph, mines broken. It doesn't say anything." Xavin shakes his head, eyes arcing in their sockets. "Best I could do and still explain our increased finance requests to Cottington. The more that Val Shohob seeps into my veins, my ability to haggle decomposes. Never realized the gap between Timon and Abrahim cut so deep. Porter shakes his head and sighs, sealing the suit and then donning the helmet, which clicks into place. "Ready when you are." Marlan takes her atmosphere out of her locker and in a matter of moments is suited up, the only thing missing her helmet. Which she squats down to get, "The kids have a good time yesterday, chief?" Genive puts on her helmet and seals it carefully. Xavin opens up his storage locker, withdrawing the suit and stepping into the bootings. He fastens up the straps, removing his holstered weapons and placing them in the voided space created by the suit's absence. "Won't be needing these." The Timonae activates his commlink, speaking firmly into the mouthpiece. "Carazz to Minerva command. Clear the following for leave: Ranix, Steele, Porter, Carazz. And someone take a look outside, I don't care if he's a simple merchant or a Nall interrogator, I'd rather not have the fish lurking about when we move the remains." Porter nods grimly. "He's liable to want to pull some kind of switcheroo and sell the real deal." Marlan shakes her head, "G'ahnli...a miracle they haven't found a way to sell their own fry yet." A dull crackling can be heard over the raised volume of the commlink's earpiece, the Timonae nodding slightly before responding to the disembodied voice of another security officer, "Our thanks Private." Porter smirks at Marlan. "Don't suppose you've heard of formorak." Genive stands quietly waiting for direction. Marlan raises an eyebrow, "Formorak?" she questions. Porter shakes his head. "Some other time." He starts walking, his rebreather hissing. Genive shuffles after the colonel moving awkwardly in her suit. Marlan grabs her helmet and places it on her head, pressing a button on her sleeve to turn on the rebreather. Xavin fastens the helmet of the suit over his head, activating the thermal boosters. "Thank you for choosing this thermal regulation unit from Fermi's Electronics. We hope it suits your needs! Be sure to visit us the next time you stop by the commercial quarter of Concordance. We at Fermi's are fully devoted to Oswald Cottington's efforts, providing the best that money can buy for the Concordance of Free Worlds." The Timonae activates the suit's vocalizer, smirking from beneath the helmet. "How many of these messages did he record?" Porter looks over his shoulder at Xavin and laughs, then keeps walking. Cargo Hold Cargo shuttling robots handle a lot of the heavy lifting in this 100-foot-square, 40-foot-high hold, which is capable of carrying several months worth of food and supplies for the ship's crew with plenty of space left over for commercial and scientific payloads. A quartermaster oversees the arrivals and departures of cargos, checking manifests to make sure that what's on the list matches what's in the crate. A wide archway, accessible by the cargo bots, leads to the ship's shuttle bay. Porter walks across the cargo bay to a meter-long antigrav sled carrying an ornate crystalline box. As the Minervonauts pass through the cargo hold, a faint "Meeeerow" can be heard. Marlan lets her eyes roam the cargo bay, she activates the vocalizer, "Anyone else just here somethign that sounded like a cat?" Genive looks up when she heres the sound. " Hmm what was that?" Porter turns down his rebreather for the moment, looking around. "One of N'Sha-El's?" Blood rushes to the Timonae's face as he clunks forward. After a moment's deliberation he acknowledges the fact, "Kip brought two animals aboard." Marlan responds, "No idea. Hadn't realized we had pets on board now." she says with a smirk. Genive tilts her head in the helmet and surveys the hold. " Hmm where is it." Porter nods. "Well, track it down. I don't want to accidentally crisp one of them when we jump to OS." Xavin presses through the canyons of crates, nodding toward the security officer stationed at Carlon's holding block. Several paces beyond the cell, the Timonae reaches down to pick up a manila-colored plastic carrying case. Inside are two black cats of remarkable size. "Genghis and Ganesh," he introduces the felinoids. Porter readjusts the rebreather. "Hope the kid brought enough food for them." Genive looks down at the cage, "Ooo how cute." Marlan shakes her head, "If he didn't..they may start eating us." she says trhough the vocalizer. "An entire crate." Xavin starts toward the remains of the Centauran, hinting toward Porter as he approaches. "For the sake of crew morale and diplomatic relations with Centauri, it might be best to refrain from leaking this information to the Major until we've launched again. If she's going to throw the cats out of the airlock, it may as well be on a planet where they'll survive more than a fraction of a moment." Porter chuckles, then nods. "I think she'd keep the cats and throw Kip out the airlock first." Marlan shakes her head, "Come on now, the kids definetly cuter then the cats." Xavin laughs, "To a similar effect on morale. I'd rather not encourage mutiny either." He presses a button near the back of the sled, the device humming sharply as the hoverpads power. Xavin turns from the sled, heading toward a crate marked: PLANETARY EXPLORATION EQUIPMENT. The Timonae pries the lid from the storage bin, hoisting himself to the lip and dragging several large ruckpacks from within. "Marshall's done good work." Marlan asks as she reaches for one, "What's in them?" Porter nods, then glances toward the crate. "What, precisely, are you planning to explore? We need to get all the clearances through the consulate." Genive nods and takes a pack. "Thermovascular syringes, climbing coils and rations." Xavin lowers himself from the crate and looks toward the Colonel. "We're dealing with a wasteland of an environment, Colonel. Preparation becomes a measure of security." Porter chuckles. "No arguments there. Just want to make sure we don't cause any more grief for the natives." Xavin laughs starkly, "A shame we don't have mind shields then." He clumsily slips an encumbered pack over his slender frame, bulked by the atmosphere suit. Porter nods, grabbing a pack for himself and strapping it on. Marlan grins, "Climbing coils and everything huh." as she slings the pack on over her atmosphere suit, "That’s what you’re here for Chief. You’re our mind shield." Genive looks at the pack for a moment an attempts to sling the pack over her suit. She stumbles sideways, "Darnit." Porter glances toward Genive. "You all right?" Marlan shifts her attention to Genive, "Remind me to revise your PT schedule Gen." she says teasingly. Genive struggles for a moment and finally manages to get the pack on her back. "Yeah I'm fine" she says sheepishly. Porter nods, then starts thumping toward the shuttle bay. "Bring the Solon." Xavin grips the steel chord of the sled's handle bar, dragging the hovering device behind him. "Let's make sure nothing slips," he warns devilishly. Marlan nods in agreement, grasping the other end of the sled. Genive falls into place behind Marlan. Shuttle Bay This large chamber serves as a shuttle hangar and a cargo staging area. Warning stripes have been painted along the floor, marking out shuttle landing pads, cargo pallets and variable gravity areas. Two massive doors guard the threshold leading out of the ship. There is also a personnel airlock to the port side of the hangar doors. As the Minervonauts enter, the security officer stationed at the airlock hatch checks names off with the stylus of his datapad: "Porter, check. Carazz, check. Ranix, check. Steele, check. Guess I don't need to make a note for the Solon." He enters the boarding code, the airlock whining open. "Good luck." Porter nods to the security officer, then makes his way down the ramp. Centauri Landing Platform The transparent crystalline walls grant a magnificent view of icy Shalyaris. Overhead you notice several hovertanks patroling the city and this spaceport in particular. Various ships, mostly of Centauran design, occupy spaces on the platform. Many centaurans mill about, speaking in quiet, echoing telepathic voices. In the center of the room, lies a smooth-walled tube with ten foot glassy walls around it plunges into the heart of the tower. A conventional staircase also leads downwards for non-Centauran visitors. Porter steps down the ramp, boots thumping, rebreather hissing. Genive follows the group down the ramp shuffling slowly. She hitches the pack on her back. Xavin tightens his grip on the sled as he faces the sharp slant of the boarding platform. "Careful now, Marlan." He warns, his steps slow and accurately placed. Porter begins to walk toward the stairs leading toward the crystalline spaceport. Marlan nods, "You've got it," she says, careful to hold the weight as she heads down the ramp. Xavin follows after the commander, quickening his pace as they reach the bottom of the boarding platform and turning awkwardly every several steps to ensure that the shattered crystals sit intact. Marlan warns, "Don’t walk so fast, I don't want to lose this thing." Genive follows along, "Where are we going anyway?" Porter gestures down the stairs. "The Shalyaris Institute. We have to deliver the remains." A few minutes later... Ctenophore Street Surrounding this area are buildings that appear to have been made from shimmering fibers that are both highly reflective and sparkling. Many of the buildings have exits not only on the ground, but on many of the higher stories as well. Centaurans and vehicles hover down the street, moving in a very orderly and uniform fashion. A hovertank is almost always in view, this near to the spaceport. Bright sunlight shines from the two suns overhead, but fails to melt the ever-present frost in this -120 degree weather. Porter emerges from the spaceport and looks around at the sparkling structures and the hundreds of crystalline jellyfish that move about blithely. Elsewhere, they look so alien, but here...they fit right in. Xavin purses his lips from beneath the fishbowl helmet, activating the vocalizer with a punch of the button. "More of a paradise than Sivad if it weren't so cold." Genive looks around, "I feel like I need to pinch myself to wake up. It seems so much like a dream." Porter grins easily, nodding, then walks north. But he too is mindful as the Centaurans begin to align themselves in flanks along the boulevard as the bipeds pass with the remains of their dead leader. Xavin keeps his eyes tuned to the street below as the crew heads north, carefully watching every booted step. As the Minervonauts pass through the aligned Centaurans, ebbing waves of sorrow spin outward from the crystalline jellyfish, who begin to shimmy their tentacles in mournful clinking tones. Genive looks from side to side and follows them slowly. Marlan lets her eyes slide from left to right, "Amazing." she whispers into the vocalizer. Xavin swallows hard, his pace slowing as the Centaurans send their emotes. "By Maza," he whispers throatily into the vocalizer. The emotional waves then become something more...joyous...as the Centaurans rise and catch the light of Alpha Centauri gleaming in the sky, scattering sparkles of colored refracted gems upon the street as the Minervonauts continue their trek toward the Institute. Porter glances around, then up, staring at the hundreds of Centaurans who scatter the colored light on the street and just drops his jaw. "That's amazing." Irthrixil floats out of the spaceport quietly, its tentacles curled beneath it. It blends in rather well with the other Centaurans, although it seems to be more aged than the others. Xavin says, "Beauty in the forsaken." Marlan seems dumbstruck and for once is silent, eyes gazing at the colored patterns as she walks." Porter nods, then continues north, toward the Institute. Genive just watches. She bites her lip and remains silent. Coelenterate Circle You are within a large open area, in the middle of a city that shimmers like a diamond. A road encircles this pristine park, and a frozen pond lies in the center. Slender plants, and shimmery wildlife are artistically arranged throughout the area. In the center of the frozen pond stands at the base of a crystalline obelisk, engraved in the angular writing of Centauri. The upper section has toppled over, and appears to have not been moved in a very long time. Several shops and important-looking buildings surround the area. The hundreds of Centaurans follow the Minervonauts and their burden: the crystalline container holding the remains of Solon Riral. Emitting waves of joy and goodwill, they continue to cast sparkling light upon the street below. One of the Centaurans that drifts near the bipedals pokes a tentacle curiously at Xavin's ruckpack, drawing an equally interested look from the Timonae. Genive lets out a long breath and follows along quietly. One Centauran among many seems to take a particular interest in the bearers of the crystalline container. Irthrixil floats closer, a quietly-beeping device cradled in its tentacles and aimed at the Minervonauts. Porter makes his way toward the Institute. He stops just outside the Institute door, holding it open for Marlan and Xavin as they bear the antigrav sled with the Solon's remains. The Centaurans drifting overhead resume their musical tinkling, a symphony of pins falling. Xavin nods toward Porter, proceeding cautiously into the institute with a drawing of curt, careful breaths. "Like nothing else," he muses as he passes by the commanding officer. Marlan squares her shoulders, suddenly compelled to carry the sled with as much dignity as possible. Porter steps into the institute. Centauran Research Institute Inside this building, many of Centauri's leading researchers work on a multitude of topics. Down these white, crystalline corridors are the labs, classrooms, auditoriums, and offices of this institution. Many Centaurans float down these corridors in near-perfect silence, carrying mini-computers and parts for experiments. A large doorway leads outside. Porter escorts the corporals to the lift. "I believe we're going upstairs." Marlan nods waiting to follow Xavin into the lift, "You gotta give it to them..thats one hell of a ceremony." Xavin nods his head slightly, changing his course accordingly toward the lift. Wrinkling his nose, the Timonae changes the grip of his hand, pace set to imbue the dignity of their parade. Irthrixil rubs its head with a tentacle, continuing to trail behind the Minervonauts. Lift You are in a spacious crystalline elevator. A panel lined with several buttons allows you to select your destination. Porter presses an activator button and the lift begins its ascent to the second floor. With a tinkling, chiming sound, the lift door irises open. Xavin runs his tongue over his lips, turning the sled slowly in a broad arc and proceeding through the doorway. A few minutes later... Office Along the back of this spacious office, several curved windows let the view see the amazing skyline of the city. Contributing to the sense of space is the ample light this room receives though it's transculent domed ceiling, and the lack of clutter. Like the rest of the city, the walls, ceiling, floor, and furniture are made of a irridencent crystalline material. In the middle of the room a straight forward desk with a computer unit on top. Chairs, which would be welcoming for the occasional off-worlder visiting this office, are noticably missing. Solilopax is floating near the windows, basking in the brilliant light that shines through. Porter steps into the office, a somber look upon his face. Outside the window, hundreds of Centaurans can be seen gathering in deference to the rite in progress. Porter bows slightly and says, "I am Lieutenant Colonel David Ransom Porter of the Minerva. My crew and I bring with us the remains of Solon Riral, as requested." ~I am Solilopaxillthrixian. Thank you for returning the remains of Riralaxipirtalik.~ Solilopax replies, via its vocalizer. It floats toward Porter slowly. Porter yells, "Corporal, you may enter." Porter nods to the Solon. "Our condolences on your loss. Riral's death was an unthinkable tragedy." He gestures toward the window and the gathered Centaurans. "I have never witnessed something so remarkable in my life. The devotion...the sorrow...the joy." He shakes his head. "When I was a kid, I always thought Centaurans were cold and emotionless creatures. I've learned differently." Xavin enters in a slow, respectful pace. One hand tightly grips the hoversled carrier as he stops several paces into the office's threshold. Marlan follows Xavin in as respectfully as possible. ~It is a common erroneous assumption by bipeds. I am glad that you have overcome it. We thank you for your condolance, and returning the remains of our fallen Solon. Would you also honor us with your presence at the Rite of the Cycling?~ Solilopax asks, switching to telepathic communication without realizing it has done so. Porter nods slowly. "We would be honored to stay." He gestures to the crew with the remains of Solon Riral. "Corporal Xavin Carazz and Doctor Marlan Ranix." Marlan nods, "Our greatest condolences, Sir." Xavin dips his head toward the Solon, vocalizing wistfully. "We're humbled, indeed." Solilopax begins to rotate slowly, ~It is pleasant to meet you, though I wish the circumstances were better. The Rite of Cycling will occur in seven days. Until then, please enjoy the hospitality that we extend to you.~ Porter bows his head. "Thank you." He looks toward Xavin and Marlan. "Place the remains where the Solon requests. I've got some other matters to attend to. See you back on the Minerva later?" One week later... Briefing Room A projection screen and interstellar map dominate the aft bulkhead of this spacious chamber, with a podium before the screen that bears the Vanguard Exploration Service seal - an eagle in profile with its beak aimed up and to the right, against a backdrop of blazing stars. Two dozen chairs are arranged in four rows of six for crew and civilian contractors to gather for briefings. A computer index terminal is off to port. To starboard, a holographic imager table allows officers to plan strategy in three dimensions. Xavin stands near the coffee bureau at the briefing room's rear, filling a cup of coffee into a ceramic mug. He smiles slightly toward McConnell as he enters. Porter walks into the conference room, already in his atmosphere suit, although he's got the helmet cradled under one arm. "Well, I have absolutely no idea what to expect from this ceremony. I got a message from the Solon that, for our own safety, we must observe from within the institute." Xavin nods slightly toward Porter as he enters, "Safety?" Staunton enters several paces behind the colonel, also wearing the standard issue atmosphere suit. Watching Xavin with a critical eye, she hangs back and waits. McConnell wanders into the briefing room, muttering quietly as he works on removing his helmet. Seems one of the seal type things have gotten caught, and the unfortunate lieutenant has to figure a way to get it uncaught. Porter smirks, placing the helmet over his head and snapping it into place with the seals. He switches on the commspeaker and says, "The Solon didn't seem inclined to elaborate." Xavin takes a sip from the coffee mug before setting it down against the table, picking up the gloves of his atmosphere suit and tugging them on. "Evening Major, Lieutenant." He whisps respectfully before adding, "Marshall didn't seem to have the time to tint the helmets, we're going to have to make due with a score of sunglasses we picked up on Concordance." Staunton nods, her tone even. "That should be fine, Mr. Carazz." Porter raises his eyebrows. "You must not have stopped in at Fermi's." He presses a button on the right arm of his suit. The glass of his faceplate opaques to a dusky gray. A recorded message declares: "Thank you for purchasing this product of Fermi's Electronics. Remember Fermi's for all your electronics needs." McConnell sighs, and gives the seal a good tug, unfortunately this rips the fabric of his suit and now the people outside can clearly hear him cursing the cheap equipment produced by the lowest bidder. Xavin shakes his head disgruntledly, "Strange damn method for encouraging repeat customers." The Timonae takes a long pull from his mug before parting with it, clipping the helmet over his face. "Thank you for your selection of Fermi's Atmosphere Suit Upgrades! Remember that wherever you travel, Fermi does too.." He winces. Porter de-opaques his helmet, chuckling, then asks, "How's Doctor Ranix doing? She going to be able to join us?" Xavin activates the tightbeam communicator, "Bastard has over eighty of these set on a random cycle." His laugh is eerie in it's metallic nature as it comes from the suit's speaker. At Porter's question, his eyes drop slightly. Staunton watches Xavin closely, still not adding to the conversation. McConnell stops his cursing and gently pulls off his helmet, he then looks at the tear in his suit. "Hey, kid." Xavin greets Kip as he enters. The Minervonauts are standing near the rear of the briefing room, all fully clad--or partially, in McConnel's case--in atmosphere suits. Kip's face is radiant above the collar of his dark blue atmosphere suit. "Hey, Xavin," he returns, immediately moving to stand near the Timonae, taking up post at his side. Xavin smiles slightly, his eyes arcing upward to meet his reflection cast by the Colonel's helmet. "She's stable, Colonel. Tired and sore, but alive." Porter smiles, looking around and down at the approaching boy. "Mr. Caspar, you're going to have to earn your keep if you want to tag along. Go round up any stragglers in the mess hall or crew facilities and bring them back here." McConnell mutters something under his breath about having to go fix his torn suit up a bit. He starts to wander off. Helmet underneath one arm, Kip gives Colonel Porter a pretty fair approximation of the salutes he's seen his from the older crewmembers. Then, in the short distance between the coffee table and the door, he breaks into a dead run. "Be right back," he says over his shoulder. "Don't leave without me." Porter chuckles, nodding, then looks at Xavin. "Check in with the doc, see if she's up to the trip." Xavin smiles, his slow gait a sharp contrast to the energy of youth. "Done, Colonel." A few minutes later... Shuttle Bay This large chamber serves as a shuttle hangar and a cargo staging area. Warning stripes have been painted along the floor, marking out shuttle landing pads, cargo pallets and variable gravity areas. Two massive doors guard the threshold leading out of the ship. There is also a personnel airlock to the port side of the hangar doors. Xavin steps into the shuttle bay several moments after Porter, punching a button on the suit's sleeve as the speaker crackles to life, "It shouldn't be more than a moment while they secure their suits. Marlan will be joining us." Staunton stands hugging a manifest and talking with Colonel Porter. As Xavin arrives, she looks up, her words cutting off like a spigot. Porter walks across the shuttlebay toward the access hatch, nodding to the Major. Xavin laughs slightly, adding. "As will the Chaplain. Looks like I lost my bet with Hendrickson that he wouldn't take his eyes out of his books." Staunton also turns for the access hatch, sliding the suit's helmet over her head and securing the closure. Porter glances over at Xavin. "Corporal, the others lose their way?" "Miss Steele's cooking took priority over fastening their suits." Xavin explains. Porter lifts his eyebrows. "Excuse me? The once-in-a-lifetime chance to witness how the Centaurans mourn their dead, and they choose to fill their stomachs? This is a funeral, goddammit. If they want station duty, I can assign them to Nova Genesis. If they want to experience something new, they can stick with the Minerva." Kip enters carrying the helmet portion of his atmosphere suit. He stops long enough to let the doctor pass, then pushes her hip with thin, pale fingers. "Ask him. Please." Marlan enters the shuttlebay after the bounding Kip, steps careful and measured. She is dressed in an atmosphere suit, helmet held under her arm. She looks back at Kip then up at Porter and clears her throat, "Colonel." she says attempting to get his attention. Porter sighs, shaking his head, then looks toward Marlan. "Yes?" Staunton stands near the hatch, a manifest hugged to her chest, helmet already in place. Kip again prods the doctor with his fingers. "Tell him I'll be quiet," he stage whispers. DS-3633 steps into the shuttle bay with its usual mechanical gait. Xavin glances toward the approaching train of crewmembers that filters from the corridor to the shuttle bay, "They're coming, Colonel," he soothes. Marlan glances over at Kip once more before turning her attention to Porter again, "Sir, a few members of the crew has questions as to their status for this mission. Mr. Hitchcock and the Kid wanted to kno if as civilians they were allowed to attend teh ceremony." Kip watches the Colonel, his mouth a perfect O. DS-3633 adds as it approaches, "This unit also requests permission to attend the ceremony." Porter nods, looking briefly at Kip, then back to Marlan. "Yes, of course. In fact, you can tell Mr. Hitchcock that if he *doesn't* come, I'm going to have him translating Centauran electronics instruction manuals." Marlan clears her throat slightly and nods, "Aye, Sir." Kip jumps once, both feet clearing the ground for a brief, determined moment. "Yes!" With that, he sees to fitting the oversized helmet onto his head and adjusting the latches. Porter sees the latecomers, narrows his eyes, then nods and says, "Let's go." His rebreather hisses and he looks toward Xavin. "Lower the ramp." Grishkov follows Hitchcock through the corridor, still without the helmet on, as he begins to place it appropriately. Marlan can't help but chuckle as the kid jumps. She just shakes her head, slowly raising her helmet to her own head and latchse it into place. Hitchcock was about to open his mouth but notices that Porter probably doesn't care. He grows even more indignant just before he puts the helmet on his head and seals the suit with a hiss. Xavin reaches toward the hull, punching in a sequence of codes. The airlock whines open with a fuse of hydraulics and the boarding platform lowers from the ship's interior. He gestures with a hand, "Step carefully when you reach the planet's earth." Staunton files past the lieutenant, hanging the manifest on a nearby hook before exiting the ship. A few minutes later... Lobby This is a large enclosure, with light filtering though the crystalline walls and ceiling. Placed throughout the structure are ticket offices of a select few spacelines, restaurants selling off-world foods, and exits leading elsewhere. While most of the crowd consists of floating Centaurans, there are also a few aliens from other worlds passing though. Kip runs up behind Xavin, his breath quick against the shield of his faceplate. "Hey, wait up." Xavin slows his pace slightly, swiveling his helmet toward Kip. "Come on, kid, you want to miss it?" Porter walks through the lobby, which is eerily empty of other lifeforms besides the Minervonauts. But, in the distance, the discerning ear can make out a musical swell of tinkling chimes. Marlan walks alongside Xavin and Kip, "Any idea what to expect?" she asks Xavin. Kip shakes his head. Well, his head, that is, along with the entirety of his torso. "No, I don't. My friend Hua said this is a once in a lifetime." DS-3633 takes in visual and auditorial data as it moves with the rest of the group. Porter walks out into the city. Ctenophore Street Surrounding this area are buildings that appear to have been made from shimmering fibers that are both highly reflective and sparkling. Many of the buildings have exits not only on the ground, but on many of the higher stories as well. Centaurans and vehicles hover down the street, moving in a very orderly and uniform fashion. A hovertank is almost always in view, this near to the spaceport. Bright sunlight shines from the two suns overhead, but fails to melt the ever-present frost in this -120 degree weather. To the north, one can make out a concentration of tens of thousands of Centaurans adrift in the sky, arrowhead-shaped skydarts zipping around, above and below them. Many of them are clustered loosely in the air above the Shalyaris Institute, while several thousand have formed concentric circles, rotating above the broad plaza. The sunlight glitters off their bells and tentacles, and refracts, casting tiny rainbows all over the place. Porter stops just outside the spaceport, his attention on the massive gathering. His mouth drops open and then closes as he looks toward Xavin, speechless for the moment. Brushtail steps out of the spaceport, looking up at the Centauran gathering in mute amazement. He shifts his pack, standing still for several moments. Xavin stops firmly in his trek, helmet swivling in a slow ninety-degree arc. "By the Lady," he whispers. Marlan shakes her head slightly and stops, She says, "ugh" Hitchcock almost bumps into the officers as they stop. He looks up at the sky. "Caeli enarrant gloriam Dei," he adds softly. Kip's hand reaches up to take a handful of Xavin's sleeve. When he speaks, his tone is that of a parishioner struck by the full potent majesty of true belief. "Beautiful." Xavin nods slightly, reaching down to grip the child's forearm. "Just watch," he breathes. Porter seems to finally remember how to work his mouth and legs again. "The Centaurans know how to put on a show." He shakes his head, walking north toward the tinkling, shimmering spectacle. With each step, the music in the sky grows louder. Coelenterate Circle You are within a large open area, in the middle of a city that shimmers like a diamond. A road encircles this pristine park, and a frozen pond lies in the center. Slender plants, and shimmery wildlife are artistically arranged throughout the area. In the center of the frozen pond stands at the base of a crystalline obelisk, engraved in the angular writing of Centauri. The upper section has toppled over, and appears to have not been moved in a very long time. Several shops and important-looking buildings surround the area. Here, the Minervonauts find themselves beneath the densest gathering of thousands of Centaurans, the ones forming six concentric circles. A few thousand others can be seen forming adjacent cones that move in counter-rotation to the circular patterned Centaurans. The overall effect of the "patterns" seems to be that of a giant Centauran and its dangling tentacles. DS-3633 looks upward at the gathering of Centaurans. "This unit believes that no information concerning this event has been recorded in the Phyrrian Overmind's database." It pauses and turns toward Xavin, "Are these creatures communicating with each other telepathically?" Thousands of other Centaurans drift at varying heights as if to observe and attend to those drifting in formation. Xavin flaps a hand toward the mechanoid, "Take it in, Dis. This is more than a research opportunity." Marlan states, "This is ever more beautiful then the last." head craned as far up as the suit's constraints will permit. Kip leans back to the point of nearly toppling backward. In his upturned faceshield, the shining images of the Centaurans dance across the boy's delighted face. Still, he holds firmly to the corporal's sleeve. Brushtail pads in behind the group, moving cautiously with his pack. Hitchcock stops with the rest of the party to marvel at the heavens. This time he can't seem to think of a Latin tag expressive enough to describe it. Porter nods wordlessly, then heads up to the steps to the institute. Suddenly, waves of excitement, enthusiasm, anticipatory ecstasy can be felt emanating from the massive crowd. He stops, blinking, looking up at the Centaurans and smiling broadly. He looks back at the others from the Minerva, then continues up the steps. Xavin follows silently, his smile broadening as the empathic feelings brush over him. DS-3633 does not feel any of these waves, and cannot take anything in without the intent of gathering information. However, it just nods to Xavin and continues forward. A grin spreads over Marlan's features as she follows the others in. Kip catches the contagion of joy and, with an unconscious giggle, follows along. Centauran Research Institute Inside this building, many of Centauri's leading researchers work on a multitude of topics. Down these white, crystalline corridors are the labs, classrooms, auditoriums, and offices of this institution. Many Centaurans float down these corridors in near-perfect silence, carrying mini-computers and parts for experiments. A large doorway leads outside. Porter makes his way down the corridor to the lift, where two Centaurans flank the entrance. They ride the lift up, then... Hallway Inside this building, many of Centauri's leading researchers work on a multitude of topics. Down these white, crystalline corridors are many doors leading to the various rooms of this institution. Many Centaurans float down these corridors in near-perfect silence, carrying mini-computers and parts for experiments. Porter walks down the corridor, approaching the office at the far end. "The Solon is expecting us." Kip's feet barely touch the floor as he follows. Xavin nods curtly, stepping in line behind the commander as the course is set. Office Along the back of this spacious office, several curved windows let the view see the amazing skyline of the city. Contributing to the sense of space is the ample light this room receives though it's transculent domed ceiling, and the lack of clutter. Like the rest of the city, the walls, ceiling, floor, and furniture are made of a irridencent crystalline material. In the middle of the room a straight forward desk with a computer unit on top. Chairs, which would be welcoming for the occasional off-worlder visiting this office, are noticably missing. Staunton stands talking to the Solon, but falls quiet as the others enter. Porter walks into the office, with its translucent window wall overlooking the circle outside and the tens of thousands of Centaurans adrift in the sky, forming concentric circles and dangling cones, while others float on the outskirts above the city, watching, waiting. The overall sensation of ecstatic anticipation can be detected by those with such capabilities. Solilopax bobs slightly as the others arrive. It remains silent as they arrive, radiating similar anticipation. Kip steps back, making way for the Colonel to approach. DS-3633 looks around the office and tilts its head. It then turns to look at the Centauran briefly, before turning towards the windows. In the silence, its soft whirring can be heard. Porter shakes his head, pushing Kip's shoulder. "You can stand in front of me. Get the best spot." Xavin swallows through pursed lips, standing near the rear of the office with his arms firm at his sides. "Solon," he greets, dipping his head within the tinted helmet. The drifting Centaurans in formation slow to a stop simultaneously, hanging in the air in reverent silence. Hitchcock looks in wonder around the office, his gaze settling on the Centauran with ill-concealed curiosity. Kip moves tentatively closer, his face shield making a dull *thunk* as it makes contact with the window. Marlan steadies her gaze on the Centauran for a moment before turning her eyes towards the windows beyond. Porter follows the boy, nodding to the Solon, then looks toward Staunton. "Something else, eh, Major?" "The Cycling will begin shortly." The Solon informs the others, floating up slowly and fanning out its tentacles. Staunton stands to the side, arms folded and pale face lit with the eerie light from the dancing multitudes. "Like nothing I've ever imagined, Sir." The two Centaurans who *might* be the ones who were flanking the lift as the crew entered the Institute can be seen emerging below, bearing between them a crystalline box - the one that carried the remains of Solon Riral when they were delivered to Centauri last week. The two bear their burden toward the frozen pond at the center of the circle below. Kip bends at the waist, looking down at the spectacle quietly as promised. In fact, from the way his rebreather has quieted, he appears to be holding his breath. Xavin straightens his posture, eyes fierce upon the display beneath. The two Centaurans below appear to have become the focus of all attention in the city. They descend to place the box on the frozen surface of the pond, and then manipulate the casing with their tentacles, opening the sepulchre and removing from it, with diligent care, the gathered remnants of the Solon. They place the shards in a neat circle around the opened box. "It is unfortunate that a larger proportion of the Solon could not be returned." Solilopax observes. Porter nods toward the Solon. "It is. Sorry about that." His attention returns to the circle. Feet planted, arms folded, the major watches the display with the serenity of cleric. "Is this what you expected, Colonel?" her voice is low through the suit's speaker. The two Centaurans on the frozen pond begin to ascend until they are fifteen feet above the sepulchre and its spread contents. Brushtail remains absolutely silent, even his breathing slow and measured. Respectful as he can be, his gaze tracks the incoming Centaurans, his shoulders shifting the pack occasionally. Porter glances over at Staunton and shakes his head. "I figured they'd have a wake, throw a party, give a eulogy..." His voice trails off as he looks back out the window. Kip turns briefly from the window, waving the doctor over. "I saved you a spot," he says, pointing to a place beside him, then turning back to the ceremony. A concert of tinkling music begins as the Centaurans above resume their circling - both those in the concentric, descending circles and those forming the dangling cones beneath. Solilopax floats upwards and observes silently. Marlan looks back from the window to Kip and grins slightly as she steps towards the spot he motioned to, eyes moving to the window once more, "Even the music is wonderful." DS-3633 remains silent as it watches, head constantly turning this way and that to get everything in. It must be saving its questions until the end. "This is the first time that bipeds were permitted to observe a Cycling." Solilopax informs the humanoids as it slowly floats upward. Xavin takes several steps forward to stand adjacent to the Colonel. Watching carefully over Kip's head, he reaches out to place a solid hand between the commander's shoulders, eyes turning upward toward the Centauran. The Centaurans forming the cones suddenly hurtle toward the ground, not merely as if they have lost the ability to levitate, but as if they are being sucked toward the ground by a vacuum. The two Centaurans closer to the pond surface do not even appear to *try* to evade their crashing brethren, and all of them - hundreds of them, slam into the frozen surface and shatter, their fragments becoming indistinguishable from those of the Solon - or what used to be the sepulchre that bore his remains. The noise that arises sounds like the shattering of cathedral windows in a windstorm, a series of cymbal crashes that drown out the tinkling melody. Porter blinks. DS-3633 nods its head, to itself apparently, as it goes over logical reasonings silently. Marlan shudders then turns towards Sollilopax in shock, waiting for him to react similarly. Xavin swallows, breath catching in his throat. Kip's small gloved fingers leave long streaks on the window as his knees give way and he sinks to kneel. "Oh no," he says in a long, heartbroken whisper. "Oh no." Although Centaurans are difficult to read, Solilopax does not seem to be startled or upset by the shattering of its brethren. It floats where it is, radiating joy to those who are capable of detecting such a vibe. Brushtail's eyes blink once, then again. A concerned frown appears on his face as he watches, though it fades after a few moments. Marlan's eyes turn back to Kip as he sinks to his knees, she stares at him for a moment wordlessly, then slowly lets her eyes travel once more to the scene outside. Staunton's hands drop to her sides. "Sir?" Porter glances toward the Solon. "That supposed to happen?" Hitchcock grimaces and looks away. "Yes." Solilopax replies, lowering its tentacles. Porter nods wordlessly, then looks back out the window wall, hesitantly this time. Marlan seems to snap out of it at Solilopax's words, her head shakes slightly and she swallows, but says nothing else as she stiffly moves to her knees and her eyes turn to Kip. Hand moving to his shoulder, "Kid.." she says softly. The first of the Centaurans forming the lowest circle of the crowd above follows after the cones, crashing to the ground with a shattering racket. Bits and pieces of the aliens can be seen hurtling in all directions. One shard smacks into the window wall and shatters into tinier pieces before Kip's eyes. Kip starts as the shard hits the window. As the tiny piece slides lifelessly down the window, he brings a finger to meet it and follow it down. Xavin takes a half-step back, flinching slightly as the shattered piece hits. His lips purses, head turning quickly between the Soloth and the mass suicide below. DS-3633 seems to have no concern at all, it says, at half volume, in its mechanical dead pan, "This event is referred to as a Cycling. This unit theorizes that the term Cycling does not refer to the movements of the Centaurans, and instead the cycling of Centauran organinic material. Phyrrian Tasker Units are recycled similiarly, however the situation is different." It turns to Solilopax, "Will you be joining them?" Marlan jumps ever so slightly as the piece shatters into the window in front of her and she closes her eyes for a moment before turning her attention back to Kip, "Hey kid." she intones once again, hand reaching out to hold his. Another wave of Centaurans plummets from the sky, shattering on the ground. Despite what some might see as a horrific display, the emanations of ecstacy and enthusiasm only seem to increase as each circle has the opportunity to make the final descent. Solilopax remains where it is solemnly. "I will not be joining them. My duties to Centauri prevent me from choosing to participate in the cycling in this manner." It answers DS-3633. Kip takes the doctor's hand, covering it with both of his. "It's okay," he says, swallowing and setting his jaw. "Don't worry." Xavin turns his chin slightly toward Porter his voice a metallic growl, "In killing one, the Kamir slaughtered thousands." One after another, the remaining circles of Centaurans fling themselves at the frozen pond below, until the entire surface of the plaza and the street is absolutely coated with glittering shards of the dead. Porter nods grimly in response to Xavin, not turning away from the spectacle, absorbing it. Marlan watches Kip in silence for a moment, hand still in his then speaks into the inter suit comm-link, voice bitter, "How long do we have to watch this?" Staunton folds her hands behind her back, her eyes level, her voice a metallic drone. "Until it is finished, Doctor." Those Centaurans still adrift in the sky, who were not part of the circular or conical formations, begin to descend at a more sensible speed, gently approaching their fallen comrades rather than hurtling themselves after them. "The Kamir have slaughtered one. The ones that have given up their life today chose to do so, and would've done so when the time arrives." Solilopax explains, curling its tentacles beneath itself. The Centaurans below begin gathering up shards in their tentacles, hungrily poking them into consumptive orifices. Porter widens his eyes slightly. Xavin tears his eyes away from the scene, watching the Solon silently. Marlan looks up as the Major responds and softly pulls her hand away from Kip, eyes turning once mroe to the view beyond, though she makes no move to stand. As they begin to eat one another she shakes her head and looks down to the ground once more, re-breather hissing as a slow and steady pace. Staunton makes a low, disgusted noise from low in her throat, but remains at what has become her post near the window. Hitchcock turns a little bit green inside his atmosphere suit and makes a strangled, sickly sort of noise. He politely says nothing, however, mindful of the Centauran's presence. DS-3633 does not turn away from the window, but says, most likely to the Soloth, "This unit inquires, how are Centaurans chosen to participate in the cycling? Is it instinctuary, determined by age?" "What are they...," Kip begins, then stops. Still on his knees, the boy very slowly begins to rock back and forth. Thousands of Centaurans drift along the glittering surface of the plaza, consuming shards at a rapid pace. Within just a few minutes, the ground is clear - the only indication of the bizarre ritual are the cracks and dents in the frozen surface of the pond as the Centaurans begin to drift toward the west side of the Institute building. "Sir, I --" starts Hitchcock apologetically. He never finishes. Instead he runs out of the room suddenly, looking greener than ever. "As was stated earlier, those who have given themselves up have chosen of their own accord to participate. Many choose to give themselves up for the good of the community. Some of those who volunteer are permitted to do so." Solilopax explains. The Centaurans now on the west side of the Institute building begin working together, tentacles clinking as they spin fresh material, shaping a curving column that ascends into a tusk-like shape. Then, they start anew west of that, building another "tusk" that eventually meets with the first and forms an arch. The "builders" divide into two groups now, adding a smaller arch directly behind the first one. DS-3633 nods its head again, processing this information. It seems to be the only member of the crew who is not affected by a racial bias when observing this situation, and instead seems to be able to take the whole thing purely as a learning opportunity. "Is this cycling connected to the reproduction cycle, or do they occur independent of each other?" Marlan looks over at Kip once more and puts her gloved hand softly on his shoulders, she risks another look out of the window. Staunton's eyes narrow behind her faceplate. Slowly, she raises one arm to the wall to support her. "Do you see this, Sir?" Porter nods, watching the construction in process. "Amazing." "This is not related to the reproductive cycle of Centaurans." Solilopax answers DS-3633, lapsing back into silence as it too watches the builders. Xavin mirrors the Major's gesture, but as the Centaurans weave the new structures, the Timonae immediately snaps his hand away from the wall, rubbing his fingers together. "Then-" he starts, but the voice trails. The Centaurans below add a third, smaller arch behind the first two. DS-3633 nods its head, also returning to silence. It glances for a moment at the walls itself, apparently having the same realization as Xavin. It touches it with its human-like hand and nods to itself. Staunton looks from the spectacle to Xavin, then slowly removes her hand from the wall as well. "Uhn," is all she manages into the helmet's microphone. With the final structure, a bowl-shaped wall, the Centauran constructors finish building the new facility attached to the Shalyaris Institute - it resembles nothing so much as a bandshell carved from alabaster. Solilopax radiates satisfaction as it sees the new facility. It tilts forward slightly to observe the finished work. Porter clears his throat, then turns toward the Solon. "Thank you for offering us this glimpse into Centauran rituals, Solon. I...think we'll be going now." "You may leave. Thank you for your presence here." Solilopax says to Porter, floating back to its desk. Porter nods to the Solon, then straightens, turns and begins to walk to the corridor. Xavin grits his teeth, taking Porter's position beside Kip and offering a hand down. "Come on, kid." DS-3633 turns away from the window and walks towards Solilopax, "This unit requests more infomation on this ritual. Is there written or electronic data available for this unit to process?" Staunton wordlessly turns to fall into step with Porter. Marlan whispers, "Come on kid. Let’s..." as Xavin comes up behind him she quiets down, but remains kneeling at his side, waiting for him to stand. Porter and the crew make their way back to the lift... Lift You are in a spacious crystalline elevator. A panel lined with several buttons allows you to select your destination. Porter wordlessly taps the control for the lift. The doors hiss shut and it begins to descend. Unbidden, Porter finds his eyes drawn to the gleaming surface of the lift walls. He shakes his head and closes his eyes until the lift stops and the doors hiss open. DS-3633 steps into the lift. "The Centauran race is extremely efficient." Marlan harshly speaks into the comm-link, "Scraps, shut up." Porter glances toward DS-3633. His mouth opens, as if he's about to say something. Marlan seems to handle it, so he steps out. Moments later... Coelenterate Circle You are within a large open area, in the middle of a city that shimmers like a diamond. A road encircles this pristine park, and a frozen pond lies in the center. Slender plants, and shimmery wildlife are artistically arranged throughout the area. In the center of the frozen pond stands at the base of a crystalline obelisk, engraved in the angular writing of Centauri. The upper section has toppled over, and appears to have not been moved in a very long time. Several shops and important-looking buildings surround the area. Porter walks somberly down the steps of the institute, his rebreather hissing as he looks toward the newly constructed "bandshell" that is now surrounded by a circle of ecstatic Centaurans. DS-3633 remains silent now, but does not stop its relentless observation. Marlan's eyes wander to the new construction and then quickly close, eyes turning away and forward once more. Mnelmn is floating near the new construction, blending in with the other Centaurans. The eyes facing the Minervonauts spot them. Mnelmn floats toward them rapidly. Still teathered between the doctor and the security officer, Kip watches his feet as he walks. Xavin tugs against Kip's hand, altering the course slightly so that it does not directly meet with a procession of Centaurans that head toward the bandshell. Catching up to the group of humanoids, Mnelmn salutes porter with a tentacle. Porter stops as Mnelmn intercepts him, returning the salute. "Corporal," he says, voice rather low, almost a whisper. Xavin swallows before adding to Porter's greeting, "We're returning to the ship, Mnelmn. We're not heading that way." He juts a gloved thumb of his freehand toward the bandstand, watching the Centauran closely. Marlan's eyes wander to the new construction and then quickly close, eyes turning away and to Mnelmn, she remains silent. "Sir." Mnelmn says via its vocalizer. It floats down to join the group, falling silent and moving to follow them. DS-3633 nods to Mnelmn in greeting as it continues along with the rest. Porter continues walking south, his attitude markedly different from when he was walking toward the institute. "Thousands dead, just like that," he grumbles. Eyes still cast down toward his own feet, Kip follows the group. "You're not joining them, Mnelmn." Xavin warns before clipping his jaw shut and following behind the Colonel. "Their participation in the Cycling was a great honor to them." Mnelmn informs Porter. Silent until now Marlan speaks up, "It was barbaric is what it was." Porter stops, raising a hand to silence the others, then looks toward Mnelmn. "How was that an honor?" "Their contribution will live on forever, in the walls of the Shalyaris institute. They provide materials which could not be otherwise obtained. Their contribution will remain, and be remembered." Mnelmn recites. Porter nods slowly. "Yes, Corporal, maybe, but you're not going to catch *me* leaping off a tall building so I can be used to upholster a chair. It seems like such a...waste of life." "Some life was wasted, but there is a great abundance of life. Some must die to make room for others, it is the way it has always been, Sir." Mnelmn answers Porter. Marlan shakes her head, losing all interest in hearing this, "I'm returning to the ship." she states, stepping away from Xavin and Kip and back towards teh ship. Porter doesn't seem entirely convinced, his eyes going from Mnelmn to the constructor Centaurans who joyously encircle the new wing of the Institute. "Stay right there, Doc." Xavin smiles slightly, watching Porter before adding lowly to Kip, "There is some semblance of beauty to it." Marlan stops in her path after only a couple of steps but does not turn. Eyes on the ice ahead of her. Kip raises his downcast eyes to meet Xavin's gaze. "How?" Porter watches the Centaurans ascend and descend, circling the "bandshell." "Doc, take a look at that. It may be alien to us. It may seem horrific from our standpoint as humanoids. But that," he points at the new construction and its devotees, "that is why we're here, why we do what we do. We may not always understand the ways of alien cultures, but we're in the VES to learn, to explore, and to see it even if we don't always *get* it. If we get this queasy over an accepted Centauran ritual, then I'd hate to think how we'd handle something really odd." DS-3633 nods its head, "Your statement is logical Colonal Porter." "It comes in all forms," Xavin whisps, merely nodding toward the Colonel's words. "This is why I have joined the Vanguard." Mnelmn says in agreement with Porter. Marlan answers evenly, "Depends on if that something involves mass suicides." though her gaze does shift, even if momentarily towards the creation. Kip looks from Xavin to Porter, then lowers his eyes before wordlessly turning to watch the celebration. Porter chuckles, then looks toward Mnelmn. "As long as you didn't join the Vanguard to turn yourself into a teacup for me, I'll be happy, Corporal." His eyes return to the new building. "Remember this. We're the first offworlders to ever see it." "My remains could be used to make much more than a teacup." Mnelmn answers Porter, its vocalized 'tone' quite serious. Porter waves a gloved hand. "I don't want to know." He then begins to clomp to the south.